


puzzle pieces

by itsallanoxymoron



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Declarations Of Love, F/F, F/M, Introspection, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series Finale, Threesome - F/M/M, i've only rewatched every kala/rajan/wolfgang scene like 50 billion times nbd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 03:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14967950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallanoxymoron/pseuds/itsallanoxymoron
Summary: “No, Kala! It’s too dangerous.” She gives him a look. “You know I can take care of myself.” Rajan sighs, and he knows this is an argument that he will not win.or: In the aftermath of the finale, there are still a surprising amount of people who want Rajan dead, who apparently have no problem targeting Kala to get to him, and Wolfgang feels like a trophy lover/gun-for-hire, and he’s quite honestly having the time of his life.





	puzzle pieces

**Author's Note:**

> set in the same verse as _lawlessness_ but you don’t have to read that to understand this

_We are bound together by forces greater than ourselves._

* * *

__

Everyone spends two weeks together in Paris, before Nomi and Amanita leave for their honeymoon—as funded by the Rasals—to simply be with one another. While it was amazing to meet everyone in the cluster for the first time, and everyone important to the cluster, no one has truly taken a moment to recognize it: They are free. They are with the ones they love, who have accepted them, who perhaps love them the more for it, for knowing the truth.

It’s such a relief, being able to enjoy the city and all of its hidden wonders. Sometimes everyone takes day trips together—which is not an easy feat considering how many people they have to fit onto a bus—basking in the glow of togetherness. Sometimes respective couples go on their own little adventures, making their own memories in the city of love. It's no less than they deserve, after Naples.

Riley and Will take Sven and Gunnar around the city; they marvel at the sensates’ ability to share information. Riley and Will speak French the same way, which perhaps is no surprise when considering that it is Riley’s French. Will feels lighter than air, and Gunnar is so kind to him that he feels like he has gained another father—maybe even two, if you count Sven. Even though he doesn’t fully believe it, Will tells them, “My father would have loved you.” He hopes that somewhere, somehow, it’s the truth.

Capheus and Zakia spend their time wandering museums and eating delicious food they have never tried before. Still, in some ways Zakia is all business. “I love you,” she says, taking one of his hands in her own. “But how are we ever going to explain this?” She sighs, her brow furrowing. Sometimes Capheus thinks she worries too much, although he knows it's part of why he loves her; they balance out.

So Capheus grins at her, forever optimistic and bright. “Kala’s husband—his father owns a big pharmaceutical company in India, one that sells HIV drugs. If people don’t already know that my mother has the disease, then they will, and they will understand why I had to come here.”

Zakia smiles, too. She thinks she will never stop being amazed by this man.

Sun has the same thought about Mun. He makes her heart flutter, and she rests her head on his chest frequently. Sun has never been in love before, not really, and she never imagined that it would feel like _this_. She never thought she needed someone to help her carry the weight of her life—and she doesn’t, she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but it’s nice to know that she doesn’t have to.

Mun, for his part, does his best to try to impress his lover by ordering at every restaurant in very bad French. She laughs at him, and he thinks that he would do anything in the world if only she would laugh like that. Every day, he wakes up with her next to him, and Mun is awed by Sun’s very presence. She’s brilliant, she’s amazing, and he can’t believe she’s real. No, he’s not going anywhere. He’ll never leave her side, if she’ll have him.

Amanita and Nomi spend their days wandering around, so drunk on being in love in the city of love that they are positively sick with joy. They share their last pot brownie beneath the setting sun, and their rings sparkle in the light. “I love you,” they whisper to one another. Each of them thinks, _I have never been happier than this, not in my entire life_. It's the truth.

The trio that is Lito, Dani, and Hernando have their own schedule worked out; the rest of the cluster knows better than to try and figure out what exactly they've got going on. The love that flows through the entire cluster is enough; why question a good thing?

Sometimes Lito and Hernando go on dates alone—on more than one occasion they make love in scandalous places, which is, of course, no surprise to anyone. Sometimes Dani and Lito visit the houses of various artists, muses from whom they can draw inspiration. Dani accompanies Hernando on food tours while Lito works off the many calories he has been consuming. _For my figure_ , he says, but Hernando knows Lito well enough to know that he would not appreciate the food in the way that Daniela will, and is just trying to be nice without saying it overtly.

They both help him rehearse lines, although at this point Lito knows the entire script of _Iberian Dreams_ forwards and backwards, and quite possibly could recite it in his sleep if pressed.

Wolfgang chuckles at Lito's theatrics. Rajan raises an eyebrow at him, confused but amused.

"It's nothing," he says. "Just Lito."

Rajan smiles like that explains everything, and quite probably it does, but not to Rajan. It's still a lot to take in, the fact that he and his wife have grown closer and managed to gain a lover all in the span of less than a week. They still aren't quite sure how their relationship is supposed to work—there's no guidebook to couples or throuples or whatever it is they are. They've learned to take cues from Lito and Hernando and Dani, though: They all share a bed. Communication has never been more important. And everyone gets a date night.

To be fair, Wolfgang and Kala get date night far more often than Kala and Rajan do, or even Wolfgang and Rajan. Rajan cannot find it in himself to be upset or even remotely jealous. Wolfgang had agreed to come to India with them—"Come home with us," Kala had said, and how could anyone say no to Kala when she looked at them like _that_ , with all that love in her eyes?—because he is willing to see where love takes them and because all he has in Germany is Felix, now. It had been debated endlessly, but finally they decided that it would make the most sense for Wolfgang to be the Rasal's bodyguard.

"The coruption case hasn't been closed," Rajan reminded them. "I am technically still in danger." He shrugged. He doubted anyone would scrutinize them too carefully; rich people everywhere in the world are known to be paranoid. And it's a good excuse to give Wolfgang access to their money: what's theirs is his, now, too.

Before they had agreed to all go back to India together, Rajan suggested that perhaps Kala and Wolfgang should stay in Paris, if only for a while. They could come back home when the trial was resolved, when everything in the company was cleared up.

Wolfgang had only shrugged, like he didn't particularly care _where_ he ended up and wouldn't make any objections if he stayed with Kala in the city of love, where they had originally planned to vacation together, just the two of them. But that was before BPO abducted him, before he truly knew Rajan. Still, Wolfgang knew he would never object to time alone with his favorite girl.

"No, Kala!" Rajan had said— _pleaded_ would probably be more accurate. "It's too dangerous."

When Kala was shot, it was like a wake-up call to Rajan. She could have _died_. Where would he be without her? How could he survive it? To willingly put her in a situation like that _again_ —it was unthinkable. Impossible. What sort of husband would he be, if he stood by while she put herself in danger because she loved him?

Rajan looked at Wolfgang, pleading, desperate. Surely he would understand; surely he must feel the same way. They both love Kala too much to let her do _this_.

But Wolfgang had only stared back blankly.

So, Rajan was alone in this. No matter. He would stand his ground.

Kala proceeded to give Rajan a look, positively piercing in its intensity. "You know I can take care of myself."

How could Rajan forget? Kala, knocking a man out, picking up his gun and shooting without thought, without remorse—it was as arousing as it was terrifying. But then she had gotten _shot_ ; how could she not be worried it might happen again?

"I don't want to let you face this on your own." She sounded so in love, and Wolfgang felt it bleed into him.

Rajan sighed, and he knew this was an argument he would not win.

They had compromised by making Wolfgang come home with them, and by deciding they would tell everyone he was their bodyguard—which was not too far from the truth, actually, since Wolfgang and Will were the only ones in the cluster with any sort of knowledge about guns. Not for the first time, Rajan was glad Kala had fallen in love with a man like Wolfgang.

And so it was perfectly obvious that Kala and Wolfgang should have the most dates while they were in Paris. Back home, Wolfgang would function primarily as Rajan's bodyguard, so he would only be able to really see Kala at night, in the safety of their own home, or at work—and for all that being sensate has its perks, Rajan can only imagine how painful it would be to be with Kala, but not _with_ Kala. So: the obvious solution.

Rajan and Wolfgang also go on dates with a surprising amount of regularity. While Wolfgang has been with men before, Rajan never has, really, and it's a bit strange to be out with his wife's lover in public— _Wolfgang is my lover, too, now_ , he reminds himself. Rajan is always expecting something to go wrong: for someone to sneer at them and yell slurs, for the other shoe to drop and someone from India to find them, ready to expose this dirty secret to his entire world and destroy his reputation and his life.

But nothing ever happens. Wolfgang feeds him soup from his own spoon, and the world does not explode around them. Paris does not judge love, after all.

Rajan thinks that it is impossible to be _this_ happy.

 _This_ must be why Kala believes in the old gods. This feeling, it's practically otherworldly. It's too good to be true; it _must_ be a gift from the gods, if nothing else.

Wolfgang, for his part, never imagined that something like this could happen. He never expected Rajan to be so open, so kind and willing to let his love for Kala blossom into a love for Wolfgang, too. He was perfectly ready to hate Rajan once they had met in person; after all, Kala had felt trapped by their marriage at first, and he could hate anyone who made Kala feel such anxiety.

But then Rajan threw himself at a gun, without hesitation, for a man he knew his wife was in love with—a man who, for all intents and purposes, was Rajan's rival for his wife's affections. Rajan had no reason to save him, and no one would have blamed him if he didn't try. Wolfgang didn't think that people could be that selfless. He supposes he should have known. Rajan's actions were no surprise, really, if they paid attention to how he had acted in the past.

Wolfgang thinks that he is halfway in love with Rajan already, and it is not entirely because of Kala.

Surely some of it is because Kala's feelings for her husband have grown so strong, so sure ever since he accepted she was _homo sensorium_ with only mild confusion. But that's not the entire basis for his feelings. Wolfgang has always been partial to bearded men, sure, and there is no denying that Rajan is a looker in his own honest, kind way. There's something else, though, too: Rajan is like the sun. Before Kala, Wolfgang had never known love could be that pure, that bright. And Rajan has only proved it twofold.

Wolfgang doesn't know how a man like him ended up with two people like _them_. He thinks to himself, once again, _I'm not worth it_ , but lets himself believe Kala when she reassures him.

* * *

 

There is a lot of hugging and crying at the airport.

"Good luck in Seoul," Rajan tells Sun. She nods at him, and a look of understanding passes between them.

They may not be going through the exact same thing, but it's still similar. They have inherited companies they did not exactly ask for, but that they must take care of, if only for their parents and because they do not trust anyone else to wield power correctly. They have seen corruption in too many forms to just stand idly by when they have the opportunity to do real good.

"You must visit us in India soon," says Kala to Felix after hugging him.

He gives her a lopsided grin, one that Kala is used to seeing him give Wolfgang. "Buy my plane ticket and give me free food, and I'm there," he jokes.

"We'll do much better than that," Rajan chimes in. He is, after all, a gracious and amazing host. As if he would ever let Wolfgang's brother pay for anything. Felix is his family, now, too. You don't make your family pay to visit you.

"Let us know if you ever need anything," Will tells Wolfgang. Will's arm is slung around Riley with easy coolness. Wolfgang shrugs. "I'm _serious_. We're both always here to help."

"We all are," Nomi says, and the rest of the cluster—and the rest of the humans, too—knows that she speaks for all of them. No matter what, they're family—not by blood and some of them not even necessarily by choice. Still, it is as if destiny pulled them all together to fill holes in their lives that they didn't even know they had.

"If nothing dangerous happens to anyone within the next year," Lito practically shouts, "we're all visiting again for the premiere of _Iberian Dreams_!" Everyone cheers loudly. "In person," he adds, pointing a finger at everyone. "In person!"

They all have that to look forward to, at least.

As everyone begins to go their separate ways, Rajan waves goodbye to people he feels he has known for his whole life. In a way, perhaps he has. He has grown so close with everyone; bonds that form after you help destroy an international terrorist organization don't break easily, after all.

He takes Kala's hand in his, clutching a rolling suitcase in the other. With her other free hand, she grips Wolfgang tightly, as if she's afraid he might turn to air. Rajan smiles and thinks it's lucky she has two hands. Wolfgang is also pushing a rolling suitcase with the hand that isn't holding Kala's. His suitcase has Kala's carry-on resting atop it.

They board the private jet smoothly. Wolfgang raises an eyebrow as if to say, _Really? All this for three people?_

"I figured, after everything we've been through, that we all deserve a little peace and quiet and time to ourselves." Rajan shrugs. It's a worthy expense, to be alone with two people he adores, to see the tension drain from their shoulders.

"We just spent two weeks with time to ourselves," Kala reminds him. Her tone is teasing.

"What can I say?" says Rajan. "I'm an old-fashioned romantic. Only the best for the two people dearest to my heart."

Wolfgang feels desire pool in his stomach as he realizes, yes, they're alone. No one can intrude on this perfectly good moment. But there's something else, too. It feels like butterflies in his chest; he knows it's partly from Kala—but it's his own love, too, at the core of it. Who knew that Wolfgang would be so romantic and sentimental? Two years ago, he wouldn't have believed it.

"Well, husband," murmurs Kala, seductive even though she doesn't realize it, "what could we possibly do with nine hours?"

"I've got a few ideas," he answers as she wraps her arms around his neck.

And then, they spend little time feeling _at peace_ —at least, it isn't necessarily relaxing. Everywhere they touch him, Wolfgang feels electric. It's like his skin is on fire, but in a good way.

Wolfgang doesn't care how complicated it is—he'd gladly spend forever with these two, if they let him.

"Please," Nomi pops in, practically pleading, "take a break. My flight is way longer than yours, and I'm flying coach." Her voice sounds strained, but she's smiling. Wolfgang laughs; he knows Nomi isn't too upset. She’s squirming in her seat, though, as Amanita sleeps peacefully beside her.

"We'll try our best," he tells her, mock apologetic. "But these two are _insatiable_."

Nomi glares, but weakly. Wolfgang bites his tongue so that he doesn't remind her that Rajan offered them first class tickets. Right now, Nomi is wishing she had said yes. But it was more than enough that Kala and her husband were sending them to the Bahamas; Nomi and Amanita couldn't have possibly allowed them to pay for an upgrade to first class, too.

“Keep it down, at least,” she says before flickering out, because Rajan is doing something with his tongue and Kala—and Wolfgang—moan and curl their toes, and God dammit if Nomi comes loudly on a plane full of people she’ll kill them, she really will. Forget BPO. They will all be on Nomi Marks' agenda, and that is not a good place to be.

Rajan is touching Kala all over, his hands roaming over her breasts, her thighs, the space between both. And then he is moving not just his hands, but his lips too, sloppy and desperate and aching. He kisses his way down his wife's stomach, and she arches her back in an attempt for more skin-on-skin contact.

"Touch me, please," Kala moans, desperate. And Rajan bites back a laugh and a comment about how he's _already_ touching her.

He nips at her hipbone. "Be patient, my love." But then Rajan moves his head between his wife's thighs because he has never been able to deny Kala anything.

“Keep doing that, _husband_ ,” says Wolfgang, positively filthy. Wolfgang is touching Kala now, and they’re beginning to bleed into one another.

Calling Rajan _husband_ may have been a risk, but he begins the motion again with renewed fervor, as if to say that being married to Wolfgang would suit him just fine. Wolfgang is kissing Kala now, and he has never felt more alive.

And then: he is Wolfgang kissing Kala, and Kala kissing Wolfgang back, and Kala clutching Rajan’s hair desperately, and Wolfgang letting his wandering hands cup Kala’s full breasts, and Kala feeling his large hands touch her _just right_ , and he is Kala coming undone, but he is also Wolfgang, still painfully hard and breaking apart from Kala so that he can hear her delightfully strangled moan. He comes, but he doesn’t come. It’d be funny if he wasn’t so desperate for release.

“My God,” Wolfgang says, voice hoarse. “You two will be the death of me.”

Rajan smiles, and moves towards him.

They sleep, eventually, curled up into one another, a tangle of limbs. Kala has pleasant dreams. No more nightmares; no more worries—at least not now. For the entire plane ride, she knows she can relax. Soon, she will be home, back to her relatively normal life with her fine husband and their new German bodyguard. Kala wonders if having two bodyguards will seem like overkill—she’d forgotten Rajan hired one already. But she’s pretty sure that no one will question it. After all, Rajan had hurried to Paris because he thought his wife was in danger. Getting another bodyguard after that would just confirm that she had been in danger; they could lie about what kind, though. If not to their families, then at least to everyone else.

She lays there longer than is probably necessary, delighting in the comforting warmth of both her lovers. When she married Rajan, she never could have imagined _this_. It is more than she knew to pray for.

Before Kala realizes, they're home and Rajan is giving Wolfgang a tour of the house, even though he's basically been here before, in Kala's head. Still, Kala thinks it's sweet. Rajan is trying to make their lover comfortable; he is trying to show Wolfgang that he has a place here, that he's welcome.

Kala plops down on their bed before realizing that she probably should take a shower—sex and traveling create a fair amount of sweat, and she doesn't like going to bed filthy. She steps into the shower, the warm water releasing knots that Kala hadn't even realized were there. She's never been one for massages, but maybe she should schedule one. Her body isn't used to the physical strain that she's put it through these past few weeks.

"You started without us," Wolfgang pouts.

"To be fair," says her gracious husband, "we were a bit preoccupied."

The way he says it makes Kala think that they were not simply touring the house. That would be just like Wolfgang, to start the fun without her. She finds herself being, once again, amazed that they do more than get along.

“Speak for yourself—I’m _perfectly_ capable of keeping my mind in two places at once.” Wolfgang says it in Hindi instead of English, just to show off.

They’re laughing as they step into the shower to join her; they seem unable to keep their hands off each other. Kala wonders how she could have been this lucky. Surely she alone doesn’t deserve all of this love.

Kala is a bit surprised at how easily Wolfgang has taken to her husband. Wolfgang, who never asks for help or reaches out when he’s in trouble. Wolfgang, who has spent so much of his life alone that he has trouble with even the simplest kinds of affection. How can this be the same man who jokes easily with Rajan under a spray of warm water? Kala wonders at how Wolfgang manages to not feel jealous or possessive—wait, that’s not true: he’s possessive of Kala _and_ Rajan, now.

And suddenly Rajan is gripping Wolfgang’s hardness in his hands, and it’s Kala’s hardness, too. She groans. How is it that Rajan has never been with a man before Wolfgang? The way he’s feeling them up now is positively divine, but then Rajan has always been a quick learner.

“What was that you were saying, Wolfgang? I can stop, if you’re having trouble concentrating.”

Kala can practically hear her husband grinning, even though her eyes have already fluttered shut. “Don’t stop,” she demands.

“You’re lucky she’s kind.” Rajan resumes the motion of his hand, and kneels. Wolfgang is breathing heavily and Kala grips at her husband’s hair, even though he is not in front of her.

“Bastard,” Wolfgang mutters, without any real bite.

Kala would chastise him, but honestly it’s very difficult to keep a train of thought when Rajan is doing _that_. She moans, unabashedly, and her release comes to her in waves.

Somehow, the three of them make it to the bed. In Nairobi, Capheus and Zakia are snuggled next to each other, ready to fall asleep. "Goodnight," Capheus tells them, more than content.

"Night," Wolfgang says, in his head.

* * *

 

A few weeks pass by without any real incident. Wolfgang adjusts easily to his new life, although it is far more comforting than he's used to, which puts him on edge. Where is the catch? Surely life won't go by without throwing some curveballs at them.

The curveballs do not come, even when Wolfgang expects them.

In fact, Kala's family takes the news that she is sensate shockingly well, all things considered.

"That's it?" Kala asks, surprised that they don't have more things to say. “Don’t you have any questions?”

Sanyam Dandekar says, voice soft but firm, “It is—a lot to take in. But it’s a relief that you’re home, that you’re safe, and that that whole business with that crazy organization is over. Besides, we’re your parents; we always knew you were special, just like we know Daya is special, even if it might not be in the same way.” He hugs her.

“And you?” Kala turns to her mother.

“Kala, of course I’m not thrilled by what you’ve just told me. You were in danger! And you didn’t come to us, or even to your husband, for help when you could have. We’re here for you.” Priya smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “And of course I’m not happy that you’ve brought this man home with you, whom you say you love, but whom you cannot wed.” She moves towards her daughter, cupping her face in her hands. “My dear, is Rajan not enough?”

Kala pulls away, saying, “It’s not like that” at the same time that Rajan says, “Mrs. Dandekar, I also love this man.”

Everyone falls silent. Rajan takes a deep breath, as if to compose himself.

“Wolfgang and I have grown close in the short time that we’ve known each other. And we both love Kala. She is my wife, and she and Wolfgang are of the same soul. Mrs. Dandekar, Kala has told me that you were so happy that she could marry for love. She _has_ married for love, and now she has more. Can you not be happy for her now?”

Priya Dandekar sighs deeply. “I am old, and I do not understand the ways of the young, but I am glad my daughter has found two men who will treat her well, and who love her.”

And then one of Daya’s children bursts in and starts causing a commotion, and any sort of serious conversation that could have happened is finished. Wolfgang barely speaks a word the entire time, which is to be expected. He’s so nervous—even though he doesn’t show it, Kala can feel it—and wants desperately to make a good impression but doesn’t know how. Besides, he’s always been good with actions, never words.

“I can tell that your family loves you,” Wolfgang tells Kala in their mind.

Kala sighs and hugs him. “Yes. They’ll come to love you, too.”

Wolfgang appreciates the words, even if he doesn’t say. She knows.

At home, Rajan asks, “How do you think it went?”

“Good,” Kala answers, a bit too brightly, like she’s trying to convince herself.

Wolfgang shrugs with one shoulder. “It could have been worse.”

Rajan runs a hand through his hair, a telltale sign that he’s anxious. “Well, at least we never have to tell my parents.”

No, that’d be a _terrible_ idea. Manandra Rasal would disown his son on the spot, and quite possibly would try to get Rajan and both of his two lovers into a hospital. Kala shudders thinking about it.

“Well, it’s over,” Wolfgang says with a sort of finality, rubbing Kala’s back and taking Rajan’s hand in his. “Now they know.”

Kala nods. Even though it would have been simpler for the three of them to keep their relationship a secret, she’s still glad her family knows. Kala has kept enough secrets to last her a lifetime. And why should her love be hidden from those who matter most to her? It is no perverse thing. Love does not bloom in the dark.

"I love you," she says, and Kala isn't sure she knows to whom the sentiment is aimed, but doubts it matters. She loves them both, and they love her. What more could she have asked for, really? Kala doesn't need to talk with her other selves to know that she has been more than blessed.

Still, she visits Lito anyways, just to get some peace of mind. He's been in her situation before, practically. And he's already told his mother about _homo sensorium_ , if only because he couldn't bear for Hernando and Dani to know something that his mother didn't also. He'd been a little afraid, but Lito had done it, hadn't he? How was this different?

"Lito, what was it like—telling your mom?" She means about being gay but she also means about being sensate, too. They're both fairly applicable to her. Kala bites her lip.

He shrugs, and they are on set in Los Angeles. There is bustle all around them, people busy setting up for the next scene. "I was scared," says Lito, honestly. "It is always frightening—telling the truth after keeping a lie for so long. But my mother loves me, no matter who I am. Even if she does not understand it, she accepts me. Sometimes that's all you can ask of a person."

Kala nods, murmurs her thanks, and breaks the connection. Lito has to get back to work, after all, or there will be no _Iberian Dreams_ showing to look forward to.

She isn't sure that what he's said will help her all that much, but she feels better for talking with him all the same. Kala doesn't know what she would do if her head were quiet, if she were not _homo sensorium_. After knowing the other sensates, after meeting her family, how could she imagine life without them? Will was right when he said they'd never go back to their lives before. Where would she be? Where would Wolfgang? Where would Rajan?

* * *

 

And then: the shoe drops. The curveball is thrown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the whole sex-on-a-plane/Wolfgang being a bodyguard thing was inspired by _The Flight to Bombay_ by AniPendragon -- didn't Hernando play bodyguard once, too, or is that something i'm completely making up?
> 
> the conversation between Capheus and Zakia was inspired by _Among the Chandeliers_ by ThatPilotGirl


End file.
